


and so i ask to share your thunderstorms

by HaveYouSeenATimeLord



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Prophecy, Thunder and Lightning, athelstan taking care of children, athelstan's a weenie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 10:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaveYouSeenATimeLord/pseuds/HaveYouSeenATimeLord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Athelstan never noticed thunder in the monastery. Now it puts a chill into his bones and he just wants to hide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and so i ask to share your thunderstorms

**Author's Note:**

> i don't even about this ship it's jusT SO CUTE and people wanted it so i wrote it because i am apparently the captain of this ship on tumblr

Athelstan shut his eyes tightly as thunder boomed overhead, rattling the small house. He knew that Bjorn and Gyda were safe in their room, and he envied them for being used to this weather and not being scared, like he was. The stone walls of the monastery had been thick, and he barely noticed storms, when they happened. Here in the North they happened all the time.

                In his head, he prayed for Ragnar and Lagertha. They were out preparing the boat. They were leaving for another raid tomorrow, and Athelstan would be left alone, taking care of the children. How would he do that? Those kids never listened to him, even though he wasn’t technically a slave anymore. He sighed and rubbed his hand against his fading tonsure.

                There was a loud crack and Athelstan was certain that the house was going to fall down around him. He covered his head but looked at the door when he heard someone laughing. Quickly he rose to his feet, realizing too late that he had no weapon and couldn’t defend himself if he tried. The man standing in the doorway walked into the candle light.

                Athelstan looked at him. “The shipwright?”

                “My name is Floki, little priest,” he grinned.

                “Why are you here?” Athelstan backed up from him as Floki took two steps forward.

                “I was hoping to speak to Ragnar. But, alas, he is not here,” he shrugged.

                Athelstan gaped. “He’s checking the boat. _Your_ boat,” he squinted suspiciously.

                Floki took two steps more. “Oh. Well, I have to get a message to him.”

                More thunder roared outside and Athelstan winced. “I can tell him the message when he gets back. What is it?”

                Floki ignored him. “Tell me, little priest, are you scared of the storm?”

                “No,” Athelstan said defensively. Lightning flashed outside the window and he squeaked. Floki giggled.

                “I think you’re very afraid,” he darted out his hand quickly, grabbed Athelstan’s wrist, and pulled him forwards. Athelstan gasped as he collided with Floki’s chest. Floki laughed again, and Athelstan could feel the reverberation. Slowly and carefully, Floki touched the monk’s cheek.

                Athelstan tried to breathe steadily as he looked at the other man. Floki’s eyes were surprisingly gentle as he threaded his fingers through Athelstan’s hair. “Are you still frightened?” Floki asked.

                Athelstan was silent for a moment as Floki played with his hair. It was oddly comforting. With a shock, he realized that the storm had quieted. Now he could only hear the soft rain patter on the roof. “No, I suppose not.”

                                “Good,” Floki said, before crashing their lips together. Athelstan staggered backwards as Floki shoved him against the wall. _If I just stay still, he’ll stop_ , he thought. But he couldn’t stay still. A heat had started blazing within him as soon as they had touched. _I’m not breaking my vow of chastity,_ he thought. _I only swore I wouldn’t touch a woman. Floki isn’t a woman._ The other side of his brain was beating him up for his recklessness.

                As fast as it had started, it stopped. Floki drew away from Athelstan, who moved towards him slightly. He stared at the monk, whose eyes were wide with shock and lust. Athelstan whimpered, almost asking, _why are you stopping please touch me_.

                Floki hunched over. “There are children in the next room,” he whispered.

                Athelstan snorted. “That never stopped Ragnar and Lagertha.” Floki shrugged.

                “I have to be going, little priest.”

                “My name is Athelstan,” he blurted. He closed his eyes. “Why me? You’re a…boat builder and I’m-”

                “You, Athelstan, are the man who stood up to Ragnar. Not many are brave enough to do that. You are stronger in this land than you think.”

                Floki moved towards the door. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

                Floki stopped moving. He grinned. “By the way, this is the message for Ragnar; tell him that I find his slave quite interesting.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm open to fic prompts for any fandom at dwightfryes.tumblr.com


End file.
